


Melodic Masterminds

by booksmusicandmagic



Category: The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/M, Famous Alec Lightwood, Famous Magnus Bane, Friends since Preschool, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Malec is amazing, Music, Musician Alec Lightwood, Prodigies, Singer Alec Lightwood, Slow Burn, Songwriter Magnus Bane, Suicidal Thoughts, Will add tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 12:02:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11577693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksmusicandmagic/pseuds/booksmusicandmagic
Summary: The musical Malec AU nobody asked for!Alec has been best friends with Magnus since preschool. However, as they age, the friendship crumbles and the two begin to drift apart. When they reach adulthood, the two meet again, Magnus as a songwriter and Alec as his musician and singer. What will happen? Will Alec's hidden feelings toward his former friend emerge again? Or will he have moved on?[On hiatus until I have more written... sorry]





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! New story! Yay...?  
> I seem to be incapable of finishing one story before starting another... *sigh*  
> This was just a random idea I had, and I wanted to get it down ASAP. I haven't written anything except the first few chapters, so please let me know if you want it to continue!!!  
> Enjoy!

The day I met you, it was the first day of preschool. 

You were new, just moved from Indonesia, but I didn’t know that yet. You weren’t the  _ best _ at English, but it was obvious you were scared. 

Remember, the teacher told us all to sing the ABCs, and you perked up when you heard the word, ‘sing’. All of your nervous energy melted away, and you asked her something, something she didn’t understand, so she just nodded. 

I remember that you looked so excited. But then, when the teacher told us to start, you sang the first seven notes… in actual notes. A, B, C, D, E, F, G… And when everyone started laughing, you looked so confused, so hurt. 

I remember that from the other side of the room, I was surprised. Back then, I was learning piano, remember? I thought I was the only one who knew the actual notes. It was a pleasant surprise, really, when I realized I wasn’t the only one with music inside my head. 

You started crying, not loudly, screaming and thrashing, like my sister did back then, but softly, tears rolling down your face one by one. You looked so embarrassed, I decided to come over to you. And I hugged you, remember? I hugged you, and you looked up at me, and your golden eyes were shining. 

And I told you, “C, C, G, G, A, A, G.” And your confused face melted into a look of shock, and then joy, and I knew you were like me, and that you didn’t feel so alone anymore. 

And so, I taught you the notes to the song, and after a few minutes, you got it, letters and all. 

The next day, you stood up, proud and tall, and you sang in front of the entire class, and everyone clapped for you. And I clapped the loudest. You looked at me and beamed. 

As soon as you sat down, I remember you crawled over to me and hugged me tightly. The first words I heard you say in English to me were “Thank you.” From then on, we were best friends.

 

Do you remember that, Magnus?

 

Do you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you want me to keep writing this! Comments and kudos appreciated!  
> Thanks for reading,  
> -booksmusic&magic


	2. Prologue-Part Two

Let’s skip to kindergarten. This was our first year in an actual school. I remember, I was grabbing you hand, I was nervous, scared. 

When we walked into the classroom, the teacher saw us, and she frowned. “Boys don’t hold hands with other boys,” she said. I shrank back, but you hugged me and said, 

“Friends can hold hands.” The teacher glared at you, but you didn’t back down. She huffed and walked away. I was amazed. How did you have so much confidence?

 

A couple years later, in second grade, you showed up to school wearing a bright pink shirt. Everyone laughed at you, said, boys shouldn’t wear pink. You ignored them, kept your head high. Nothing they ever said brought you down. 

 

Third grade. I slept over at your house. The first time. You introduced me to your parents and sister. Remember, I asked you why you don’t look like them, and you said,“I’m adopted.” And I asked you, “What happened to your family?” and you responded, “They are my family.” I stopped asking questions then.

 

Fourth grade. My younger brother was born. I remember I showed you a picture of Max, Izzy, and me. You cooed over it, and you said you wished you had a younger brother. That was the day I learned that you were an only child, at least until you were adopted by the Fairchilds.

 

Fifth grade. My family adopted a boy named Jace. You didn’t like Jace, but then again, I didn’t exactly enjoy Clary, either. She wasn’t bad, just… a bit loud. And whiny. Remember, I ran up to you, that day, and I said, “My parents adopted someone! Like your parents adopted you!” And I don’t know why I didn’t notice the pain that shot through your features, the way you turned away. “That’s great,” you said, and I heard the sadness. I thought that you thought that my new brother would take me away from you, and I hugged you and told you that I would always be your best friend. I didn’t realize what made you upset was that day, which was the day which your mother had killed herself. 

Remember, I ran up to you, that day, and I said, “My parents adopted someone! Like your parents adopted you!” And I don’t know why I didn’t notice the pain that shot through your features, the way you turned away. “That’s great,” you said, and I heard the sadness. I thought that you thought that my new brother would take me away from you, and I hugged you and told you that I would always be your best friend. I didn’t realize what made you upset was that day, which was the day which your mother had killed herself. 

“That’s great,” you said, and I heard the sadness. I thought that you thought that my new brother would take me away from you, and I hugged you and told you that I would always be your best friend. I didn’t realize what made you upset was that day, which was the day which your mother had killed herself. 

 

Sixth grade. When that summer between elementary and middle school ended, I remember I ran toward you, seeing you in front of the school. And I was going to hug you, but you stopped me, stepping backward. And I was confused. You never rejected my hugs before. That year, you started putting on makeup, and I wanted to tell you that you didn’t have to hide.

 

Seventh grade. You stopped eating with me at lunch. That year, I realized, I liked you as more than a friend. I was  _ terrified _ . Boys aren’t supposed to like boys. My parents drilled into my head that I was the heir to the Lightwoods, and one day I would need a degree in medicine or law or something and a wife with lots of little babies. But that future  _ terrified _ me. The only person I wanted to talk to you about it was you, yet you were the one person I  _ couldn’t _ talk with.

 

Eighth grade. I confronted you about how you were leaving me out of everything, refusing to hang out with me, staying with your little group of friends. And you yelled at me, told me I was annoying, told me to get out of your life. I left school that day, heartbroken. That was the last day you talked to me. The last day you referred to me as your friend.

 

High school. Freshman year. I became friends with your sister, who was dating my brother. Clary explained to me your dark past, and I thought I maybe understood. But instead of talking to you about it, I stayed quiet, because you told me not to talk to you. My dad started getting worse. He would yell at my siblings and me frequently. I had talked to you about it before, but now, I couldn’t. Do you know  _ how _ much I wanted to talk to you?

 

Sophomore year. I became part of the ‘Nerd’ clique, while you became part of the ‘Popular’ group. I think Izzy found out about my crush on you then, and my sexuality, but, bless her heart, she didn’t say anything. That year, my mother stormed out, and I had to watch my siblings, take care of them, more than usual. I took the blame for everything they did; I couldn’t let Dad hurt them the way he hurt me.

 

Junior year. I officially came out to my friends and siblings. You had already come out, sometime in middle school. Now, you wore makeup and glitter every day. You started dating Camille. I wanted to tell you that it was a bad idea; she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Dad was getting worse. He lost his job and started drinking. Jace and I already had jobs, and we were struggling to stay alive. That’s when I started cutting.

 

Senior year. What did I tell you? Camille cheated on you with about half the guys in our grade. And yet, you took her back every time. I wanted to smack you, you were being so dumb. At the same time, I was still hopelessly in love with you. My dad caught me kissing a guy. He yelled at me, hit me, and then tossed me out of the house. Even though I was the main provider. My siblings saw everything, and they called child care services. They took Dad away. It turned out, he had multiple minor crimes on his record. He was taken to jail, and my siblings lived with me in a small, two room apartment. I was eighteen, so I was legally an adult. With all the responsibility from school, to work, to watching my siblings, the cutting got worse and worse. 

Remember, one day, you shoved me down in the hallway? That night, Isabelle found me in a pool of my own blood, collapsed on the bathroom floor. They took me to the hospital, and I had to undergo therapy and treatment for weeks.

 

College was pretty uneventful. I graduated from a small community college with a degree in musical arts. During the years I was in college, I continued working. Isabelle got a partial scholarship and graduated in forensic sciences from Emporia State. Jace went to Columbia with an athletic scholarship.

Now, Izzy works with the NYPD as one of their top forensic scientists. She’s married to Simon, remember him? You would always get his name wrong, Clary’s only ex… yeah. Jace is a professional soccer player. I’m sure you’ve seen him on the T.V. before, even though you’ve never really liked sports. He married Clary, your sister. And me? I’m pretty sure you know what I’ve been doing. I know what you’ve been doing. I know you became one of the most famous songwriters and composers in the world. Me, I joined multiple orchestras, from the Vienna Philharmonic, and the Chicago Symphony, and of course, my first, the New York Philharmonic. Now, I’m a soloist, YouTuber, and singer. I’ve heard a lot of comments about my singing. About how it was so heartfelt, so raw. And it is. I write my own songs, sometimes. And they always stem from my deepest feelings. Most of them are about you. I'm still single, have been all this time.

 

I haven’t seen you in years, not face to face.

I want to ask you:

Why did you do it, Magnus?

Why?


	3. We meet again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, guys! Thank you for all your support! You all seem to really like this idea! Thank you, thank you, thank you! :) Here's your next chapter, as requested.   
> Oh, FYI, none of this is betaed, so all mistakes are mine.  
> Enjoy!

_**Warning: Changes POV** _ **_frequently_**

**Magnus**

I lean against the piano casually, watching as Simon looks through the papers. 

“So, Sheldon?” I ask. 

Smedley glances at me. “Splendid, as always, Magnus,” he praises.  I give him a little half bow. 

“But-” I freeze as he starts talking again. “The directors have a question.” I resume an indifferent pose. 

“Yes?” 

“They were wondering if you would be okay with an orchestral accompaniment for this song.” 

A beat. Then, a grin splits my face. 

“Are you kidding? Yes, yes of course! That would be amazing!” I practically shout. I pull out a few papers out of my bag, noting a few areas and scribbling down notes. “I’ll get to work on it right away-” 

“Magnus?” Steven interrupts. I glance over at him. 

“Yes, Stefan?” 

“There’s, uh, there’s this guy…” Simon rubs the back of his neck. “The directors want him to work with you. You know, for the song.” I blink, startled. He continues on, rambling, “He’s a great singer, and he plays a  _ ton _ of instruments, he’s a really big musical prodigy if you ask me, started playing piano really young like you-” 

I cut him off with a wave, sliding into a seat in front of Simon’s table. “Can I at least hear this man’s supposedly prodigal voice, before I make my decision?”I ask, leaning forward. 

“Oh. Oh, yeah!” Samuel fumbles with a tablet, tapping on its screen before placing it face down on the center of the table. “So you can’t judge by appearances,” Simon explains. 

I raise my eyebrow, gesturing down at myself. “Scott, I’m an Indonesian, bisexual man. I know better than to judge.” 

Seth hushes me as the music starts. The haunting plucks of a harp fill the air. Then the singing starts. I recognize the song immediately- In Loving Memory. I sang it once myself. I close my eyes, letting the familiar tune sink into my ears. The male singer’s voice is deep, thick, heavy, laced with rawness and emotion. Familiar, even. 

_ I've never knew what it was to be alone, no _

_ 'Cause you were always there for me _

_ You were always home waiting _

_ But now I come home and it's not the same, no _

_ It feels empty and alone _

_ I can't believe you're gone _

The man’s voice breaks, and I hear a faint sobbing. And the sound of a woman, reassuring him. And the voice starts up again, softer, but still as steady as ever. 

_ And I know, you're a part of me _

_ And it's your song that sets me free _

_ I sing it while I feel I can't hold on _

_ I sing tonight 'cause it comforts me _

Simon grabs the tablet, pausing the video. He tilts his head questioningly toward me, and I realize that my eyes are welling up with tears. 

Hastily wiping at my eyes, I nod. “I accept.” 

“You sure?” Simon looks excited, practically jumping out of his chair. 

“Yes, Sean, I accept. I will work with…” I cock my head to the side. “What’s his name?” 

Simon hesitates suddenly, sinking back down in his chair. 

I narrow my eyes. “What is it, Simon?” 

He gulps as I say his real name. “It’s… uh…” He takes a deep breath. “Watch the rest of the video.” Simon slides the tablet over to me.  I frown but accept the device. 

The screen is frozen on a blurry image of a man, presumably the singer, hugging a dark haired woman whose head is cut off with the angle of the camera. I tap the play button, and the video starts up again. 

The man turns back toward the camera. I gasp. _ No. Way _ . The singer wipes his tears and stares into the camera. 

“This was for my brother, Max,” he says softly. “I miss you, buddy.” 

With that, the camera shuts off, leaving me haunted with the image of my old childhood friend. Alec Lightwood.

* * *

 

**Alec**

“I’ve  _ what _ ?” I yelp. 

“I know!” Simon shouts gleefully on the other side of the line. “The artist wanted you to help him with the songwriting and background music!” 

“No way!” I jump off of my couch and pace frantically, hands running through my hair in excitement. “Simon, I swear if you’re joking-” 

“I’m not, I swear! He came in here, gave me his audition, and I asked him if he wanted an orchestral accompaniment, and he said yes, and I showed him one of your old YouTube videos-” 

“Which one?” I’m suddenly serious. “If you showed him that new viola cover I uploaded a week ago, I am going to freak, I messed up on that shift so badly.” 

“Um…” Simon is suddenly quiet. “I showed him… Max’s video.” 

I drop the phone out of shock. “Alec?” Simon’s voice buzzes through the phone. “Alec!” 

I snap out of my stupor, snatching the device off the ground. “You showed him the song where I emotionally break down?” I hiss. 

“He only listened to it, I swear.” Simon stutters. “I mean, he saw the end, but that’s all!” 

I sigh, rubbing my face. “Well, I guess what’s done is done. Who is this guy, anyway?” 

“Er…” Simon trails off. “It’s…” 

“Just spit it out, Simon.” 

“It’s… Magnus Bane.” 

I freeze. “M-Magnus? The famous songwriter Magnus?” As in, the Magnus  _ we went to high school with _ ?” 

I can nearly  _ feel _ Simon flinching. “Y-yes?” 

My heart starts thumping wildly. My hands start to tremble. Simon’s saying something, but all I can hear are my ragged breaths and erratic heartbeats. 

“-lec? Alec, I’m bringing Izzy over.” With that, the line falls silent, and I drop the phone onto the couch, mind still blank. 

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing there when Izzy bursts in through the door, running to me 

“Alec!” she shouts joyfully. “Congrat-” 

She stops when she sees the expression on my face. I know it’s probably a mixture of horror and fear. 

“Alec,” Isabelle breathes, wrapping her arms around me. I melt into my sister’s arms, shaking. 

“It’s Magnus,” I whisper. Her eyes widen in understanding, and she shoots a glance at her husband. My sister is one of the only people to know exactly what Magnus did to me. 

“You didn’t tell me it was Magnus!” she hisses at Simon, who looks guilty. 

“I didn’t think it was important,” he mutters. Isabelle pulls away from my grasp to stare into my eyes. 

“You have to make a decision, big brother,” she says firmly. “You don’t have to work with Magnus, or you can work with Magnus.” 

“If you do, it will be the best thing your career has seen in years,” Simon adds. 

I look between the two of them, weighing the choices, take a deep breath, and nod. “I’ll do it.”

* * *

 

Magnus

I sit nervously in the conference room, waiting for Alexander. 

_ Alec _ , I correct myself.  _ Just Alec _ . 

Fighting to contain my nerves, I decide to look through more of Alec’s YouTube videos. His channel, Melodic Mastermind, is one of the most famous cover channels on the internet. 

I click on one of his older songs, inhaling sharply when I recognize the face on the screen. 13-year-old Alexander Lightwood. It’s a song I know, have heard many times, but nobody who sang it before has captured the feelings of longing in the words as perfectly as Alec has.

_ Ooh-ooh _

_ Ooh-ooh _

_ Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh _

_ I can't help but love you _

_ Even though I try not to _

_ I can't help but want you _

_ I know that I'd die without you _

The song is interrupted by a throat clearing. 

My head whips sideways, and he’s there, leaning casually against the wall, staring at me with guarded eyes. 

“Like my singing, do you?” he says coldly. I jump up from my seat. 

“Alexander,” I greet, sticking out my hand in greeting. “It’s nice to see you aga-” 

Alec brushes past me, sitting in the chair next to mine. “Enough with the formalities, Bane. We’re here for business and business only." 

I frown. This isn’t the Alexander I was used to. Then again, my Alexander was from years ago… I sit down in the chair opposite from Alec’s. He looks at me expectantly. 

After a moment, he sighs and says, “Music?” 

“Oh! Right!” I grab the sheet music for piano I had written from my bag and hand it to Alec. He pulls out a sheet of paper and a pencil and begins marking in the music. 

I watch as his expression changes to one of concentration, something I hadn’t seen in so long. He doesn’t even glance at me, not even when I pull out my phone and look through more of his songs. 

I find one of his videos that was made a little before the ‘War of Hearts’ one, and I press play without even thinking. The sound of a guitar floods out of the small device12-year-old Alec’s fingers strum over the strings expertly. Alec’s head snaps up as his own, albeit younger, voice gets louder, more confident, at the beginning of the chorus. 

_ Well, I've been afraid of changin' _

_ 'Cause I've built my life around you _

He squints, an eyebrow tilting downward slightly. “Can you listen to my videos another time?” he complains. “We need to get work done.” 

I shut off the phone, dropping it into my bag, and change seats so I’m next to Alec. “Alexander, I-” 

“Alec.” he corrects firmly. “And I just want to get this job over and done with. Okay?” 

“No, not okay!” I exclaim, shocked. Why doesn’t he want to talk? “If we’re going to work together, we need to be able to talk to each other without you snapping at me every ten seconds!” 

Alec stares at me, anger melting away into shock. “Oh my gosh, you don’t remember,” he breathes. 

I blink at his sudden change of mood. “Don’t remember what?” 

Suddenly, I see tears in his eyes, and he’s standing up. “How could you not remember?” he shouts. “What you said to me, what you  _ did _ !” 

Bewildered, I stand too, extending my hand to touch his arm. “Alec-” 

Alec jerks his arm away from me, grabbing his papers and stuffing them into his laptop bag. He tosses a business card at me, wiping tears furiously from his eyes. “Text me when we’ll meet next time,” he chokes out, before turning and running out the door, leaving me as confused as ever.

* * *

 

**Alec**

As I run through the streets of New York, I choke down sobs. 

_ That bastard! First, he does…  _ that, _ and now he doesn’t even remember it? _

I reach my apartment, running inside and slamming the door. Falling to my knees, I let my tears out, fingers clawing at my once-scarred wrists as old memories surface.

* * *

 

**Flashback**

_ “Alexander! Hey, Alec!” Alec turns to see Magnus stumbling toward him. They’re 14 and somehow managed to crash a high school party. Well, Magnus crashed it. Alec was kinda just dragged along. Magnus grabs onto Alec as he trips, clutching his shoulder. Alec catches a whiff of his friend’s breath and blanches.  _

_ “Did you… Magnus, you’re drunk!” The other boy scoffs. “ _

_ No, I’m not,” he protests, heaving himself and trying to walk forward… only to fall face flat on the floor.  _

_ Alec sighs, and he heaves his friend up by his arms, breathing through his mouth. After getting his friend situated in a sitting position against the wall, Alec brings him some water.  _

_ “Mags,” Alec says, handing the cup to Magnus, “You really shouldn’t have done that. We’re not allowed to drink yet, not for ages-”   _

_ Magnus makes an uncaring sound. “Pfht, who cares about the rules?” He slaps Alec lightly, aiming for the shoulder, but in his drunkenness, misses, and slaps his face instead. “Don’t be so boring, Alec,” he slurs.  _

_ Alec presses his hand to his face in shock. “Magnus. W-what?” “ _

_ No, Alec, you what.” The drunk teen hefts himself up and being taller than the other already, towers over his friend. “You’re always so boring, and clingy.”  _

_ “Magnus-”  _

_ “You’re annoying, and you listen to whatever others say. You-”  _

_ Anger overtakes Alec, and he begins to yell, “You’re the one who’s abandoned me! You barely talk to me, you never come over, and when you say you’re busy, I always see you with some other guys!”  _

_ Magnus scoffs again. “Yeah, well, I don’t want anyone seeing you with me, do I?”  _

_ The words hit Alec harder than a punch. The younger stumbles back, staring at his friend, before he turns, and runs. Out of the exit, away from the party, back to his own house. Running into his room before even 7, locking the door, refusing to let anyone in.  _

_ That was the last day Alec talked to Magnus with any intentional friendship. Because even though Magnus had been drunk, it’s like they say: Drunk words are sober thoughts. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter may take a while to upload... this story idea is fairly new, so I have barely any background info on it... I'll try my best!  
> Meanwhile, check out my other story, which has a long quote for a name, so I don't really want to say it, but here it is: People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but it's the way you live your life that matters.  
> Comments and kudos appreciated! Thanks for reading!  
> -booksmusic&magic


End file.
